Needles and Sustenance
by KousukeAsazuki
Summary: The Dark Prince has left Prince's mind, but not his thoughts. Will he be drug down into the depths of despair by haunting memories, or will a light be shone upon his darkened mind?


After my first (failed) attempt at a POP oneshot, I'm doing another. I like this one a lot more, though, and I'm actually pretty happy with it, which if you know me, isn't something that's quite common. Enjoy!

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"I told you," the Dark Prince murmured into his light's ear, "You couldn't refuse me forever."

Prince tried to summon the will to glare at his other half, but it was far from working. Instead, he sighed tiredly and cast his gaze to the floor. After everything he had been through with the sands and the vizier, he just wanted to relax and not have to worry. Even when he returned from his journeys and thought he could rest, he was thrust into yet another battle for his life. Though, he had picked up a rather unusual traveler.

The Dark Prince had resided in his mind for such a long time that even when he made himself known to Prince, it wasn't completely unexpected. Of course, at first he was shocked, but once the surprise passed it seemed that without the Dark Prince, he wouldn't be whole. The troubling and tempting things his sand monster whispered into his ear were hard to resist, and time and time again he had given into him. Only when Farah re-entered his life did he learn to say no to the darker side of his soul.

Even with her support, he had found himself stuck in the depths of his own mind, and the Dark Prince's territory. Over and over again, it seemed like he succumbed to the call of his demonic half and was found, tired and weakened, in a pit of darkness. No matter how suffocating the abyss around him seemed, as long as he had that one figure to fixate on, he found a way to breathe.

The Dark Prince sustained him in these darkened times, and had saved his life a number of times. It was no surprise, after all, since without his body, the sand monster would have no sustenance. They fed and lived off each other, and it was a relationship that would surely mean one of their demise. Unfortunately for Prince, his will was not as strong when the thoughts of his kingdom and Farah disappeared. It was on this weakness that the Dark Prince thrived, and even though Prince would wake from this nightmare eventually, every time it felt that he would never see the princess' fair face or his home of B**abylon** again. In this pit of despair, where his darker half thrived, there was no light for him to follow home.

The Dark Prince gloated over his prey, feeding off his energy and absorbing his life. He knelt down in front of his better half and ran pointed fingernails down his cheek. A twisted grin spread over his lips as Prince tried to pull away from the contact and, after a moment, tired out and slumped back into the touch.

"You always seem so _down _when you come to see me," the sand monster remarked, laughing, "Why could that be?"

Prince chose to ignore the taunting and just shook his head, concentrating on yet trying to ignore the darker man. He tried to summon the faces of his people to his mind, but only wisps of fleeting images appeared to him. The Dark Prince's presence was so strong in this place that anything he didn't want to be here wouldn't be. Namely anything that gave Prince hope that he would escape this dungeon and return to his world of light once more.

"Why do you return, night after night, if you don't like it here?" the Dark Prince wondered, tilting his head, "Why do you come back to me if you despise me so?"

The questions were valid ones, and also ones that Prince had no answer to. Why _did _he put himself through this on a regular basis? Did he enjoy the torture that much, or did he only long to be in some way connected to the sand monster? Even if it was a darker half of him, it was still half of him and he felt a connection to this part of his soul. Everyone had a darker side, his just happened to have a face and a voice that mocked and insulted him. When he thought about it, everyone had their own criticisms of themselves, who was to say he with his Dark Prince was so different?

He knew, though, that those were only excuses to come back and see his other half. He was addicted to the Dark Prince; his drug, his poison. As with every addiction, he sunk lower and lower into the comforting release that being with him brought. He was sure he was destined to come to this place every night regardless, and his other half simply made it bearable. Without him, Prince would be lost and alone. He saw the Dark Prince, as sadistic and menacing as he was, as a sort of scapegoat from reality. When the pressures of being a ruler built up, he could come to this world and let it all melt away. Nothing here would harm him or stress him out.

The Dark Prince sat next to his royal half and ran a blackened hand through his hair. His yellow eyes watched Prince's every move for a moment before he spoke, "Have you realized it yet? Why you cannot deny me?"

For the first time since he had arrived, Prince answered, "As I am your light, you are mine."

The Dark Prince laughed and his nails dug into the other's scalp, "My light?" he repeated, "And I am yours?"

"Yes," Prince confirmed. Even if it was foolish and wrong, it was what he believed.

"I am not your light, and you aren't mine. Oh, no, I am so much more to you than guidance, I _am _you-- I am your life and your will, your happiness and your fear, your love and your hate."

"And what am I to you?"

"You?" The Dark Prince tilted his hand and cupped Prince's cheek, turning his face so the two were head on, "You are my sustenance, and I am your substance."

"Like a drug," the Prince murmured, closing his eyes. He didn't see that it was wrong and should be stopped, not while he was so far deep into his high. He, like everyone with an addiction, made excuses until he really believed that what he was doing was alright; that it wasn't hurting him and that he was the same as always. But he was wrong.

Every night he spent with the Dark Prince was a day where he became more bitter and indifferent, not only to his people but to Farah as well. She tried relentlessly to convince him that he couldn't drag himself down any more, but he would hear none of it. She was only a woman, after all. A woman that he had once loved, yes, but still a woman that did not know him as he knew himself; as the Dark Prince knew him. Her voice of reason became an annoyance, and soon he refused to speak with her at all unless absolutely necessary.

His reign as a ruler had become more like that of the vizier than of himself. He was cold and ruthless, ordering strict rules and showing compassion for no one. Even those that served him loyally were not above harsh punishment. He excused his actions as saying that a firm hand would lead a country best; if you were too soft, your kingdom would reflect that weakness. He was right in his thinking, but wrong in his interpretation of it.

He failed to notice anymore that his people never smiled, and instead cowered at the sight of him. Where once there had been celebrations, there was now only fear and sadness. Babylon had fallen yet again, but under no other ruler than its rightful one. Only one person could get through to him, and that person was not a man, but a monster, and led his mind in the direction of chaos. The Dark Prince claimed his actions noble and for the Prince's best intentions, and the foolish man believed him.

Convinced he had his prince wrapped around his finger, the shadowy figure placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered into his ear, "It is time for you to return home, my prince."

"Must I leave now?" Home meant work and people that did not understand him. If he could only stay here for a few more minutes...

"Yes, but you will return here, surely as you do every night."

The Prince nodded, then quickly shook his head, "No," he whispered, a hand clutching at his head, "I cannot come here again, I must stop this." The light of his soul was still putting up a fight, even in this useless battle.

"Now, now, don't talk like that," the Dark Prince chided, placing a hand over Prince's, "You'll return here whether you say you want to or not. The fact that you do every night shows that you want to."

"I cannot control my actions when I am in that state and you know it," the black-haired man spat out, pulling away.

"Can't you? Or is that just your excuse to come and see me every night?"

"I..." Prince knew he was making excuses, but it was easier to say that it was useless to put up a fight. He had fought his entire life, and wished for peace and quiet. This was one battle that he was afraid and unwilling to fight.

"You are weak, nothing without me. I give you understanding and comfort that they cannot. They always want things of you, never concerned with how their demands might be affecting you. I only want the best for you, Prince, I only want to provide you with a place to rest, with someone who knows you better than you know yourself."

The words were too tempting, and Prince was too tired to fight it off. He sunk back down and silently conceded to return. Even if he knew he shouldn't, he had no support now that his kingdom was on the verge or a riot and his wife had been pushed too far away. She was simply too emotional and wanted to help in all the wrong ways. She only put more pressure on him instead of relieving it like she was meant to. The weary look he wore and the brainwashed attitude he showed were minor setbacks. In this place he felt whole and complete. Depressed, yes, but here he had the luxury of not caring and not fighting.

"Go, now," the sand monster whispered in his raspy voice, "Go back to your world of light, and then return to me again."

"I will," he promised.

And as if the entire world was swept away, everything went a lighter, less suffocating black and the Dark Prince was gone. Prince opened his eyes and sat up, his covers pooling around his waist. The rays of light shone in through his curtains and illuminated his bedroom. A motion out of the corner of his eye alerted him to a presence in the room.

Farah looked at him from the doorway, a frown tugging at her face, "Prince," she spoke softly, kindly, "you aren't well."

"I'm fine," he said harshly, pushing the covers aside and standing. His condition had taken a turn for the worst: His skin was no longer a radiant golden-brown, but now a paler, grayer color. His hair had lost its sheen and his eyes were dulled and half-lidded. He stood hunched over slightly and his posture was not that of a leader, but of a broken and worn man.

"You've been sleeping so much," she argued, "It's not good for you, and the hours you are awake, you spend alone in darkened rooms."

"I like my privacy, is there something wrong with that?" he snapped back, "What do you want?"

"I want you back," she said, walking to him and cupping his cheek. Her warm touch was so different from the Dark Prince's cold and deathly-feeling embrace. The Prince didn't like it at all.

He smacked her hand away, "I have gone nowhere."

"You've gone to him again," she disagreed, "Prince... he's gone, he plagues your thoughts no more."

"You are wrong," he stated, "He is not so easily vanquished."

"No, not when you don't want him to be." At his silence, she frowned, "You turned from him once to embrace the light, why did you go back?"

"He offers me something you cannot, something no one else can."

"I can give you anything he can," she promised, her eyes full of promise and worry.

"You cannot understand me the way he does," Prince told her, turning his gaze from hers.

"If you would only tell me what it is that's wrong-"

"That's just it!" he cut her off, "I shouldn't _have _to tell you, you are my wife, you should know what it is I need. But _no_, you must pressure me and demand of me, just like everyone else!"

Her frown deepened, "The only thing I want of you is for you to be who you once were-- a brave and selfless prince of Persia that loved his people more than anything."

"You ask too much," he said, "He does not ask that of me, _he _asks nothing of me."

"He's killing you."

"He's saving me," he countered, "He's saving me from all of you who wish me to devote my life to fighting and working, and all for what? So others can be happy? I am sorry, but I am not that selfless."

"You used to be," she pointed out.

"I used to be miserable as well."

"You weren't, I saw you, when your people were praising you, when they came to your rescue and supported you. You were happy, you could be proud of them and yourself. Now what do you have? A ruined kingdom with citizens starving and miserable."

"If you think you can do a better job, then be my guest. I want nothing more to do with this place, them, or you."

Farah stared at him, her eyes filling with tears as the words sunk in. She knew it was the Dark Prince's doing, but to hear such words come from the one she loved was something she had not been prepared for. Regardless, she refused to cry or make a scene of it. If she caused him more aggravation now, he would surely leave.

"Prince, please," she whispered, desperate and scared, "Fight him, you can over power him and be how you once were, before any of this started. You can have your kingdom back, the vizier is gone, there is no one to threaten you anymore. You can be happy and whole again, things can be better."

As tempting as the Dark Prince's words had sounded, Farah's were even sweeter. A time where he could have the love and faith of his people, a happy wife, and no war was all he had ever wanted. He had fallen in love and gotten the girl, only to return to his dark side for a moment's release.

He thought of how he was now, and realized that he was miserable. His people were uncared for and his love no longer smiled as she did. His thoughts constantly turned to those of darker and more sinister things, when he knew that was not who he was.

Seeing that she was getting through, Farah jumped at the chance, "All you need to do is reject him. If he sees you slipping from his grasp, he'll try to bring you back, but if you just ignore him and keep a better future in mind, he'll give up."

"He is not so easy to ignore. I have tried many times, but he sucks the energy from me and puts me in a state of comatose."

"Prince, he is not real," she stated clearly, "The monster from your head is gone, and it is only in your nightmares that his memory returns. Don't let him win, you conquered him once before, you can do it again."

"Did I really?" Prince wondered, "If he has come back, who is to say I conquered him at all?"

Farah hesitated for a moment, but shook her head, "If you did not beat him then, do it now. Don't let him drag you down with him. It is only in your head that he resides, not your soul. You're strong enough to do this, I believe in you and so do your people."

"My people," he repeated, "My people have suffered yet again for my foolish and childish mistakes. I thought I had learned from him that I was being weak and naive, but it seems I learned nothing."

"You did," she argued, "You learned so much, and you've become a better person because of it. Everyone has a weakness, you're just allowing yours to overcome you."

"But I can overcome it and him once and for all."

She nodded, a rare smile gracing her lips, "Yes, he's no longer real, he can't hurt you, so stop letting him haunt you."

"I will," he agreed, remembering he promised the Dark Prince that same thing. But it was not really he who he had promised, only himself. The Dark Prince had been gone for a while now, it was only in his dreams, a mere figment of his imagination, that he was being brought down. He couldn't allow himself, Farah, and his people to suffer anymore.

---

That night, Prince and Farah laid down in the same bed. She intertwined their fingers, and smiled over at him, "Goodnight, Prince," she whispered, "Just remember, I'm always here with you."

He nodded, "Goodnight, Farah." His eyes closed and the normal darkness of sleep took him over. His thoughts flooded with promises of a better future for him and his kingdom, he was sure that he would overcome the darker half of him that had departed long ago.

But as he realized that the scenery should have changed, and that he shouldn't be able to see the darkness, the same suffocating feeling rose in his chest. He had been waiting for a pleasant dream of Farah to rise into his mind, and all the while, the Dark Prince's memory had been creeping up on him once again. He wasn't sure if there had been a wall behind him or not, but there was now, and he found its comforting embrace too tempting. He slid down it and crumpled into the same defeated form he always did.

Out of the never ending shadows, the Dark Prince emerged, yellow eyes ablaze with victory. He knelt down next to Prince and grinned, "I told you," the Dark Prince murmured into his light's ear, "You couldn't refuse me forever."

Just like a drug.

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Alright, I'm much happier with this one than my first POP oneshot. It's much more dark and twisted, and (ooh, looky looky) it brings up much bigger things, such as human weakness, which we all have. Even if we don't realize it, we're all addicted to something, and even if we convince ourselves that it's not bad for us, those around us might know what they're talking about when they say it is. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! 


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